


The best family is the one you find: The Avocados and Karen look after each other

by experimentaldata



Series: Deniigi Prompts [1]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catholic Matt Murdock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Foggy Nelson & Karen Page Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I do not condone drunkenness, Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson Friendship, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson at Columbia, Minor Foggy Nelson/Marci Stahl, Sickfic, but I wrote it for accuracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-16 13:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/experimentaldata/pseuds/experimentaldata
Summary: Each chapter in this work is based on a series of prompts from @deniigi on Tumblr. The title of the chapter is the prompt. This is my first foray into Daredevil/Marvel in general, so do please let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy some fluff and found family, with a little angst mixed in because why not. Special thanks to my faithful beta reader@momentofmemory (Tumblr and Ao3)





	1. We're the same, you and I

Foggy knocked on the door of their dorm room for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Hey, Matt? Are you still with me buddy? It’s been two hours.”

Straining to hear through the door, he could just make out the clicking of rosary beads and murmured prayers, punctuated with hiccuping sobs.

“Matty, listen. I need you to open the door.”

The clicking continued.

“Look buddy, I know you don’t wanna hear this, but you made an 85. At Columbia. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that’s an Ivy League school. And you’re passing! Passing with flying colors, actually.”

Foggy rested his forehead against the door, and slid his backpack off his shoulder. He sighed.

“You can’t go through life expecting to get things perfect all the time. That’s just pride. That’s one of your like, seven deadly sins, right?”

The sobbing started up again.

“Ok, all right, too soon. Don’t feel guilty about that. Happens to the best of us.” Foggy stood back to rub the sore spot from the door off his forehead. “But the point is, you’re a human being. A whip-smart one. I wish I had half your memory and brainpower. But you’ve gotta stop beating yourself up like this or you’ll lose it.”

He was sitting against the door now, having given up hope on ever actually getting it open. “I know how you feel, Matt. I know what it’s like to come from someplace where the Ivy League might as well be the moon. Hell, any college for that matter. You feel like you’re the only person who can make or break your entire bloodline. And it sucks.”

The clicking stopped. “I don’t need your pity.”

“And you’re not getting it,” Foggy replied. “Just sayin’, man, I relate. Now I’m feeling generous tonight so I’ll make you a deal. You open up, I take you to get something to eat and we forget this ever happened. We could go to Harry’s—get the best pastrami sandwich you ever put in your mouth. Or that new kebab guy on the quad; I’ve heard he’s good. Or maybe… I don’t know buddy, what do you want, huh?”

Another hiccup, then silence.

“Soup.”

“…What’s that?”

“I would like some soup. Please.” He sounded very small.

“Sure thing, Oliver Twist. C’mon, let’s get you some soup. You just gotta open up, ok?”

Foggy heard sock feet pad across the room, then the click of the lock. He stood and cracked the door open. It was pitch black inside, and in the light from the hall he could just make out a shock of red hair from beyond Matt’s bed.

“Ok.”

***********************************

Two days passed, and Foggy wondered if they’d ever talk about it, but Matt never said another word. When he got back to their room from class on Wednesday, Matt was missing, as per normal. But on Foggy’s pillow lay a piece of typing paper, folded across to form a guide for each line. It read:

Thanks for Monday

Sincerely,

Oliver Twist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matt is praying the Divine Mercy Chaplet, in case you care to know. Hope you enjoyed reading!


	2. You saw nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nasty cold virus has swept through Nelson & Murdock, and Foggy is feeling the effects. Pure Fluff (TM).

It has been a week, Foggy thought. First the Miller vs. Steinbeck case had gone to trial, against even his worst misgivings. Then an early cold snap laid down a sheet of ice overnight, clogging up the roads and making the sidewalks hazardous. Matt was nowhere to be found. He had called late Monday night, after being gone all weekend and not showing for work that morning, to say that he had to be out for a few days. He sounded rough, too.

Almost as rough as I do, he thought with a laugh that turned into a coughing fit.

Karen was waiting for him, sneezing into her Kleenex and reaching for another DayQuil. “Morning Foggy,” she said.

“Morning sunshine” he croaked.

Karen grinned and shook her head

“What?!”

“Froggy Nelson,” she giggled.

“Har har.” Foggy pitched his briefcase into an office chair and sank down onto the couch in their foyer. “Any voicemails?”

“One,” Karen said, “they pushed the trial back to 4 pm. Justice LaMont is presiding.”

Foggy rolled his eyes. “Agnes the Ancient One. Great day for my voice to be shot. She can’t hear worth a damn.” Karen grinned again. “What now?” He asked

“I’m sorry, I just can’t take you seriously when you’re whispering like that!” she said, her laughter turning to coughing again.

“I can’t help it!” Foggy moaned. From his office, he heard his cell phone ring.

“You gonna get that, Froggy?”

“Bite me,” Foggy said. He walked over to his office, but then poked his head out the door.

“That was Matt on the phone by the way,” he whispered in Karen’s general direction.

“Pardon?”

“That was Matt,” He croaked, “and it sounds like he needs to be picked up from the hospital.”

“Oh gosh, is he ok?” Karen asked

“Yeah, he’s fine other than the bum ankle and a couple of bruised ribs. He just dropped off whatever goon he beat up last night. I gotta hurry, he wants me to get there before the police do.” He shoved his arms through his coat sleeves. “Text me if anyone else calls.”

“Be careful, Froggy ,” Karen called as he left

“See ya later, Sneezy,” he quipped back. He pulled their door shut and started to race down the steps, only to miss the last one and fall head over heels onto the icy sidewalk. He could see Karen laughing at him through the window, before reaching for another Kleenex.

He dusted himself off and pulled out his phone.

You saw nothing, he texted her.

As he walked down the stairs to the subway, his phone pinged with her response—three frog emojis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading! If this isn't how law works I'm sorry - only served jury duty once lol. :) Also I feel I should point out that I don't own Kleenex or DayQuil. Or Daredevil for that matter.


	3. You're my favorite superhero!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy finds himself in a predicament. Matt is there to help. Thanks especially to that-one-blind-writer for sensitivity reading on this piece, in addition to beta reading by Mem.

Most people knew much more about Foggy Nelson than they did about Matt Murdock, or at least thought they did. His gregarious nature and bellowing laugh--if you lived within two doors down from him, you had a front row seat to his emotional state. And since he never met a stranger, everyone assumed they knew all there was to know about him, especially in contrast to his recluse of a roommate. But there were plenty of things people didn’t know about Foggy. He hated the Dave Matthews band. His favorite color was green. He had a scar on his right leg from falling out of a tree as a kid.  
But the thing about Foggy that most surprised people was that he wore glasses. It was probably another contrast people assumed existed between Foggy and Matt. If one was a mystery, the other was an open book. If one was blind, the other must be sharp-eyed.  
Foggy, however, had worn glasses ever since he was a little kid. Coke-bottle glasses, his mother called him. In fact, that scar on his leg came from an unfortunate misjudgement in the height of the drop. But coke-bottle glasses didn’t get you very far with the girls in the eighth grade, and so they soon went by the wayside, along with his beloved Oscar the Grouch shirt and scruffy red corduroy pants.  
*********************************  
To everyone’s shock, Matt had gone home and gone to bed that evening. He had been moping around the office with a bum ankle and sore ribs all week, and had managed to catch the killer virus Karen and Foggy had just fought off. By now, his head felt like it was fit to burst, and his office voice and Daredevil growl were barely distinguishable. It killed him to be grounded from protecting the city. He’d taken to wearing headphones to bed to drown out the cries for help that came, night after night. It helped. Some.  
Regardless, that is why he almost didn’t hear his phone when he got a text message at—3:20? 3:30 in the morning?—oh no, it was Foggy. The message was unintelligible to his phone. Maybe he got drunk and locked himself out. Wouldn’t be the first time, he thought with a sigh. Soon, he heard pounding on the door that gave him his answer. He grabbed one of his crutches and limped over to the front of his apartment.  
The odor of cheap whiskey and cheaper perfume nearly bowled him over. 

“M’down here, Matt,” slurred Foggy.

“I don’t smell blood.”

“Wha…?”

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

Foggy let out a drunken giggle. “It’s not exactly… ah… well I’m ok if that’s what you’re saying. I just...” 

“Just what Foggy? Are you drunk?” 

“What? No! Maybe. A little. But that’s not th’ problem, I just… damn this’s so embarrassing.” 

Matt yawned and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “You can tell me anything, Foggy. But only for the next two minutes. I’m on some pretty strong painkillers.”

Foggy laughed again. “Doesn’t that go against your, like, ninja code ‘r something?”

Matt shrugged. “I’m a changed man. Besides,” he said with a wave towards his crutch, “can’t fight like this anyway. Now are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or can I go back to bed?”

Foggy was giggling so hard he could barely talk, but eventually he managed to spill out, “I can’t...can’t find my glasses.”

Matt blinked. “You wear glasses?”

“Not really...they’re really thick, an’ ugly as sin, so usually I wear contacts. Wait,” he said, pausing to belch, “y’didn’t know I wore glasses?”

“Guess I forgot. So why aren’t I in bed right now?” 

“Well I was over at Marci’s place, and, y’know, maybe we had a couple of drinks, things happen, I’m spending the night. And I didn’t have my stuff because I didn’t—didn’t wanna assume, y’know? But my glasses were in my briefcase...figured I’d be ok. We ended up fighting a little after that, and I was already ready for bed, but she kicked me out so now I’m here.” He belched again, then sighed. “And I went to scratch my eye and knocked my glasses off and now I can’t find ‘em. So yeah,” he said mournfully. “That about brings us up to date. What th’hell are you doing?”

Matt had eased himself to the ground and was feeling around them in ever-widening circles. He clicked his tongue and hummed softly to himself as he went.

“You’re...singing?”

“It’s called the Loud Moron’s Jig,” Matt said with an Irish brogue, “tune from the Old Country.”

“Jerk.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who answered a booty call.” Foggy felt something being pressed into his hand, then heard Matt grunt as he pulled himself up to his feet. He shoved his glasses onto his face before Matt could wipe the grin off of his.

“There’s your specs, Velma," Matt said, "I’m going back to bed.” 

“Wha—how—I looked for like ten minutes!” 

“Well, Velma, you may be good at solving wacky Halloween hijinks your friends, but your pal Matty’s a blind ninja. Besides,” he said, tapping his forehead, “radar sense.” He pushed off from the wall he was leaning on and started down the hallway towards his bedroom. 

“Hey Matt!” Foggy called after him. 

“What now?” 

“You’re my favorite superhero!”

“Go to bed, Foggy,” Matt said with a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be like Foggy: drink responsibly. Do be like Foggy: have friends who will wake up at any hour of the night to save your dumb butt because you didn't drink responsibly.


End file.
